


When It Gets Too Much, I Need To Feel Your Touch

by heavvymetalqueen



Category: Metal Gear
Genre: Canon Disabled Character, M/M, Multiple Orgasms, Rimming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-20
Updated: 2016-09-20
Packaged: 2018-08-16 09:32:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,490
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8097025
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heavvymetalqueen/pseuds/heavvymetalqueen
Summary: “We’re in this mess together, Miller,” chuckles Ocelot, shrugging off his shirt and scarf. “If we don’t look out for each other, who will?”





	

The crash in the other room is loud enough Ocelot startles, hand tightening in the documents he’s holding. 

Another crash follows closely, the sound of a crutch being slammed into furniture, a ragged scream, and one final heavy crash. 

With a sigh, he gets up from his desk and pokes his head out of the office. There’s two Intel Team members in the hallway, wide eyed and confused. 

“You,” says Ocelot, waving at them sharply. “Can you tell the rest of the team to handle transmissions for the rest of the evening?”

Both kids salute. “Of course, sir.”

“Also make sure nobody comes looking for me or Commander Miller unless it’s an absolute emergency.”

They both nod, starting to scurry away to the rest of the team. “Will do, sir!”

Ocelot waits for them to be gone before crossing the hallway and swinging into Miller’s office. He doesn’t bother knocking. He never does. 

Kaz is crumpled on his knees on the floor, curled up on himself, hand gripping his empty sleeve as he pants, sweat rolling down his forehead. 

Ocelot closes the door. “You ok?”

“I’m fine,” he grits out, not sounding fine at all. 

“You look like it, yeah,” he snorts, crouching down to his level. 

“Fuck off.”

He taps his forefinger on his lips. “Mm, let me think...nope.” 

Kaz grunts, his hand tightening into his sleeve. 

Ocelot rests his own hand on his. “Hurts?”

Kaz nods stiffly. 

Ocelot reaches under his chin to tilt his head up. His aviators are off kilter, his pale eyes and the deep shadows under them visible for once. “When’s the last time you slept, Kaz.”

A few months ago he would have told him to fuck off again, but he’s long done resisting. He’s probably too tired and in pain to resist anyway. “Dunno,” he rasps. “A while.”

“Well, it’s time for a break then.”

“I have....”

“I’ve already told people we are not to be disturbed for the night. This is non-negotiable.”

Kaz just sighs, and reluctantly wraps his arm around Ocelot’s shoulders. He hisses when Ocelot helps him on his feet. 

“How’re the hips?” 

“Hurt like hell.”

“If you let us make you a better leg than that piece of shit you wouldn’t have that problem,” grumbles Ocelot, and Kaz doesn’t answer, just accepts the crutch he’s being handed and the arm around his waist helping him out of the room. 

Thankfully he’s not that stubbornly dedicated to his martyrdom that his room is too far, and they make it there in just a couple of minutes. It’s a mess, dark and stuffy and it smells like sour, stale sweat. He drops Kaz on his bed, and crosses the room to slam the windows open, letting the cool evening breeze in. He takes off his gloves, bandolier and holsters and rests them on the desk. 

Kaz is not looking at him, sitting awkwardly on the edge of the bed and looking at the floor with a frown. 

“Relax, for Chrissakes,” he grunts. 

Kaz does relax a fraction, cooperating when Ocelot slides off his coat and starts unbuttoning his vest. He raises his head to let him loosen and slide off his tie, remove his sunglasses. There are so many layers, so many belts and knots and hooks, a desperate attempt at holding himself together as if he’s about to crumble any second, at any time. 

But he lets him undo every single of them. The shirt finally whispers off, exposing his stump. It looks bruised and swollen. He hisses quietly when Ocelot cups the rounded scar. 

“I got you,” he says slowly. “Your arm is no longer here.” He digs his fingers into the soft flesh, rubbing gently. “You can’t feel it hurt.”

Kaz nods slowly. 

“Do you need me to go get some drugs?”

Kaz shakes his head, and for once Ocelot knows he’s not being stubborn. 

“All right. Let me know if you change your mind.”

“’kay.”

He keeps massaging the stump until the hard set of Kaz’s jaw loosens, his eyes slipping closed. 

“Better?”

“Mm.”

He pushes the shed clothes off the bed and leads him to lie on his back. He’s quiet, but still not relaxed. Ocelot climbs between his legs, undoes his belt and his pants. Kaz doesn’t look at him but raises his hips to let him slide them off, along with his underwear. 

Ocelot unhooks the unsightly harness attaching his barebones fake leg to his knee, tossing it to the side. The stump is heavily bruised and marked, a small scratch beading with a drop of blood. 

They really need to convince him to get a better one. But it was hard enough to get it to even use this one in the first place. 

He takes his knee and pulls it up, rolling his leg into a wide circle over his torso a few times, painstakingly slowly. Kaz whimpers as his hip clicks loudly, and then exhales. Ocelot smiles, fingers brushing the scar on his stump. “Does your leg hurt?”

Kaz shakes his head. 

“Good.” He rests the leg over his thigh, and Kaz does the same with the other. “Let’s get you relaxed now.”

Kaz’s lashes flutter as he digs his thumbs into his thighs, pressing wide spirals into his tense muscles, working his way up to his sore hips and ribs. 

By the time he’s squeezing tension out of his shoulders and chest, Kaz’s cock is hard and pressed against his stomach expectantly. 

Ocelot slides back on his haunches, and licks him into his mouth. Teasing is not in the books tonight. 

Kaz groans, deep and low, his hand tangling in his hair as he sucks him off hard and sloppy and quick, until he comes with a grunt only a few minutes later. 

“Better?” he grins, licking his lips. 

Kaz’s eyes are softer and his frown has loosened a little. He nods. “Thanks.”

“Oh, I’m not done yet.”

Kaz tugs on his hair a little. “I know but. Thanks.”

“We’re in this mess together, Miller,” chuckles Ocelot, shrugging off his shirt and scarf. “If we don’t look out for each other, who will?”

“True.”

Ocelot leaves the bed to kick off his boots and shimmy out of his pants, and retrieve the lube from the nightstand. Kaz looks at him with hooded eyes. Not for the first time, Ocelot wonders how much he really sees through those damaged milky eyes. 

But his cock gives a twitch on his stomach once he’s naked, so he must see _enough_.

Kaz chuckles when Ocelot flips him on his stomach, sticking a pillow under his hips. “Oh, do I get the full treatment today?”

“You look like you could use it,” says Ocelot, crawling back on the bed and settling between his legs. 

“Not complaining,” sighs Kaz, relaxing under the hands palming his ass. 

He’s gotten softer in these months of being a paper pusher. Ocelot doesn’t mind. More to grab. He gives a small nip to Kaz’ cheek, and smiles as he spreads out for him. 

Ocelot plants his hands on Kaz’s asscheeks, spreads them as far as he can and buries his face in him, mouthing and licking at his hole sloppily. 

Kaz blubbers incomprehensibly into the mattress, quivering under him. Ocelot’s tongue sinks into him, thrusting as deep as he can, mouthing and nipping at anything he can get a grip on. Kaz is trembling when he slips a finger in.

“Fuck,” he hisses, hips lifting to meet him, cock hard again and dangling heavily between his legs. Ocelot lets go of his ass with a wet pop, sticking an extra finger in him for good measure. He chuckles watching Kaz fuck himself on his fingers, weeks of frustration melting off him. He squirts the lube between his cheeks, and starts fingering him fast and deep, loosening him up and slicking him. 

“Fucking...fuck me,” growls Kaz into the mattress. 

Ocelot pulls his fingers out and flips him onto his back again, pushing his legs back to rest on his own shoulders. “You good? Anything hurts?”

Kaz nods frantically. “I’m fine, come on.”

Ocelot slams into him, and Kaz yells in surprise. Ocelot presses his legs into his chest and starts thrusting down, a fluid, unwavering rhythm, hitting the right angle every time until Kaz is sobbing, whimpering, leaking precome on his stomach. One rough stroke of his hand and he’s coming, screaming and arching. 

Ocelot gives him a couple of minutes to catch his breath, thrusting very shallowly into his quivering body before pulling out and rolling him on his side, straddling his thigh, and pushing into him again. 

Kaz makes a low, broken noise into the pillow, his one hand gripping the sheets as Ocelot fucks him slowly and methodically, unhurried, adding lube when it starts to chafe. Kaz is finally getting loose and vocal; begging for more, faster, harder, _come on Ocelot just fuck me...._

It takes a while for him to be hard again, but Ocelot is in no hurry. He could last the whole night if need be, and has on occasion. He coaxes Kaz’s third erection gently, twisting his wrist in time with his slow thrusts. 

“Ocelot,” whines Kaz, trapped under him. “Please....”

“Please what?”

“Let me come, goddamnit,” he grunts, the last word breaking on his lips when Ocelot picks up his rhythm, short snapping thrusts that make Kaz’s eyes roll back into his head. 

Ocelot almost loses concentration when Kaz’s hand grips his leg hard enough to bruise. “Hey,” he pants.

“What?”

“Wanna feel you come in me,” he croaks.

Ocelot’s rhythm falters, and Kaz laughs. 

“I’m not done yet,” says Ocelot, but his thrusts are already becoming erratic, because that little _shit_ knows how to throw him off balance and now all he wants is to let go and fuck him for his own pleasure. 

“Don’t care, I can get you going again, please, I wanna feel it....”

“Fuck,” he breathes, grinding into him, heat coiling at the base of his spine. 

“That’s right,” laughs Kaz breathlessly, “give it to me.”

If Ocelot is going before his time, he isn’t going alone. He strokes hard, thrusts deep, feels his orgasm wash over him just as Kaz is throbbing around him and spilling onto the sheets. 

He rests his forehead against Kaz’s thigh, trying to catch his breath. Kaz pulls him down with surprising strength, manhandling him until he’s lying next to him. 

“That wasn’t what I planned,” mutters Ocelot. 

“You said it,” says Kaz, nuzzling his neck. “We gotta look out for each other.”

“Dick,” grunts Ocelot.

Kaz just chuckles, running his hand down his chest and stomach. “So how long does it take you to go again, old man?”

“I’m _two years_ older than you, you asshole.”

“Hm-mm.”

As much as Ocelot resents him for breaking his rhythm, he has to admit he hasn’t seen Kaz this lazily cheerful in a long while. Definitely not since he lost his limbs. He hates admitting to it, but he has kinda missed this Kaz in the last few months. 

“How long it’ll take me is up to you,” he purrs. 

Kaz flips him on his back suddenly, taking a few moments to balance himself over him. “Is that a challenge.”

Ocelot puts a hand on his shoulder - not quite holding him up but just there to avoid getting crushed if his elbow gives way. Kaz leans into it to leverage as he straddles his sides. He drips come and lube on his stomach, and it would be disgusting if it wasn’t so hot. 

Kaz settles on his hips, giving an experimental grind to their still soft cocks. And then kisses him. Actually kisses him on the mouth, eager and wet, which is something he’s never done before. 

Ocelot is ashamed of how quickly that works for him, his hands snapping to grab Kaz’s soft hips, kissing up into his mouth, sucking on his tongue. 

“See, here’s the thing,” says Kaz huskily when they part, rolling their hips together, fluttering small kisses on the edges of Ocelot’s mouth. “You make a big show with the torture and the theatrics, but I know the truth.”

“Which is?”

“You’re a big old softie, _Adam_.”

A spike of heat goes off in his stomach. Distantly he realizes that it makes sense that Kaz would know his name - if John never told him Zero most definitely did - but he’s never used it before. 

Hell, he hasn’t been called that in...in....

He squeezes his eyes shut. He can’t remember. And trying to gives him that hollow, queasy feeling he gets sometimes lately. Better not dwell on it.

He distracts himself by grabbing Kaz’s face and pulling him down to kiss him. “Congratulations, _Kazuhira_ ,” he growls into his mouth. “I’m afraid now I’ll have to kill you, though.”

Kaz snorts, and when he reaches down between them it sends a jolt of electricity up Ocelot’s spine. He hadn’t even noticed he’d gotten hard again. 

From a bit of making out, like a fucking teenager. 

But he has no time to feel ashamed because Kaz is guiding him inside himself again, and he’s so warm and wet and slick, and he moans into his mouth, his whole weight in Ocelot’s hands with a surprising amount of trust. 

When he’s done he plants his hand in the middle of his chest and rides him roughly, setting the pace, ragged breath washing over Ocelot’s heated face. 

Ocelot closes his hand around his dick and Kaz whimpers, almost pained. It probably does hurt after three orgasms, to be fair. But he doesn’t stop, pale eyes unfocused and mouth slack. 

“Fuck,” he croaks. “I’m so close, fuck, Ocelot...Adam, please, fucking...just a little bit...more....”

Ocelot grabs Kaz’s hair and pulls him down to crush their lips together, fucks his mouth with his tongue, and Kaz is moaning into his mouth and spilling on him and grinding him down, dragging out an almost painful second orgasm. 

For a second they just stare at each other through unfocused eyes - and then Kaz crashes bonelessly on top of him. 

Ocelot roughly shoves him off, and Kaz doesn’t even have the energy left to complain, only a soft hoarse mumble leaving his slack lips. 

“Ready for sleep?” grins Ocelot, scooting to leave the bed.

He stops in his tracks when Kaz’s stump weakly pats at his chest. Kaz is looking at him with hooded eyes. 

Ocelot drops back down, sighing dramatically. “Well _I suppose_ I could rest for a little bit, too.”

Kaz grunts, shuffling to smush his face against his shoulder, stump still possessively pressed on his chest. He’s asleep in seconds, breath heavy and regular, body loose and relaxed and not in pain.

Ocelot yawns, sinking into sleep. Today is definitely not going the way he’d planned. But resting a little every once in a while is not so bad, is it?


End file.
